


Egoistic

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Ficlet, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:00:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25661740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Noctis throws a tantrum.
Comments: 38
Kudos: 88





	Egoistic

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: A pairing's untagged for spoilers, sorry.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

They’re all tired and stressed—Ignis gets that; it’s been a week since he had enough ingredients to make them a _proper_ meal and even longer since they slept in real beds. They barely scrape together enough gil for a motel room, and even then, it’s one with only two beds and one bathroom. They’ve all been so crammed together for so long that Ignis can barely remember what it was like to enjoy _real_ privacy. He understands that they’re all at their breaking point. But as the prince, Noctis shouldn’t be the first to fall, even if he has fallen the furthest: from a life of leisure and luxury to a sad existence on the road. 

Noctis is noticeably bitter. He’s been sullen all evening, and when Gladiolus races past him and jumps into the bathroom first, slamming the door behind him, Noctis’ annoyance visibly skyrockets. Ignis can tell Prompto senses it too—he quietly shrinks back onto the farthest bed and starts silently cycling through the digital screen on his camera. Ignis strolls towards that bed but hesitates. He’s torn between offering his prince a comforting hug and lecturing that prince on pouting so much. 

When he looks back, he’s not surprised to see Noctis glaring at him. He is a little hurt, given that he’s tried the hardest to make things easy for Noctis—he goes out of his way to collect gil, cooks to the best of his abilities, does all the driving, and even washes Noctis’ clothes for him when they stop by streams. Ignis knows he’s also the closest thing Noctis has to family now, and this is the exact sort of trip that would make even the tightest-knit bunch set into each other.

Before Ignis can think of anything to say, Noctis grunts, “You gonna go join him in there, or what?”

Ignis blinks, both taken aback and confused. “Excuse me?”

“I can’t believe you didn’t even _tell me_.” Shaking his head, Noctis paces over to the bed Prompto’s not perched on. He plops down onto the mattress and spreads his hands out like claiming it, the whole thing, even though there are four of them and two beds. Scowling up at Ignis, he explains, “I heard you talking to that lady selling ingredients by the gas station. When you bought so much in bulk, she asked who you were cooking for, and here I thought you were going to say, oh, I dunno, _your prince_ , but you go and tell her _your boyfriend._ ”

Ignis stiffens. He’d been sure the other three weren’t in range—they’d all stayed in the car when he went to replenish their supplies. He hadn’t thought anything of the comment at the time, but now it flitters back in, and he corrects, “My boyfriend _and two other friends_ —we should hardly be calling attention to your status.” He knows that’s not the point. Prompto’s gone wide-eyed on the other bed, subtly trying to scoot further away from the two of them in Ignis’ peripherals. 

Noctis bursts, “What the _fuck_ , Ignis! I thought we were friends!”

“As I just said, we are—”

“I’m supposed to be your _best friend_!” Prompto fidgets; he usually gets that title from Noctis, with the understanding that Ignis and Gladiolus already have their own titles. But he wisely doesn’t interject. “You’re supposed to be my advisor! But, like... more than that! You’re supposed to serve _me_!”

Ignis lifts an eyebrow but doesn’t comment. He _does_ serve Noctis. Except usually, Noctis wrinkles his nose and gets all bent out of shape when Ignis uses that word. Noctis is the one that likes to pretend they’re not prince and retainer. He rants on, “I’m supposed to have your loyalty! Like, I get we’re all friends, but, like... _you’re_ supposed to be looking out for _me_ first! And now I find out you’re all over Gladio instead!”

Ignis _stares_. He just barely stops himself from letting out another undignified ‘ _excuse me?_ ’ He looks into Noctis’ fuming face, and he starts to understand what’s really going on. Noctis isn’t just cracking under the pressure. 

Noctis is _jealous_.

He’s never had to share Ignis before. Sure, Gladiolus has dated around, Prompto sometimes chats up other people, but _Ignis_ has always put Noctis first. _Always_. And everyone knows it. 

Maybe deep down, a part of him knew that he’d spoiled Noctis too rotten, and some feelings of jealousy would always be inevitable. Maybe that’s why he didn’t tell Noctis the minute a tentative affair started up. He was certainly going to tell Noctis _eventually_. Just... at a better time. 

Suddenly, Ignis can see through the cracks in Noctis’ fury—he sees the hurt and childish betrayal at the root of the problem. 

Ignis quietly says, “I _do_ put you first. Always.”

Noctis sniffs. “No, you don’t. Is that why you told Gladiolus to put a shirt on yesterday? Because you thought you were staring at him too much and I’d notice?”

No, because they didn’t have the gil for sunscreen and Gladiolus has way too much skin exposed for that nonsense. It would be so easy to say that. But it’s made harder by Noctis’ bratty attitude. Ignis finds himself retorting, “My personal relationships are none of your concern, _Your Highness._ ”

He feels guilty the second it comes out. Noctis looks scandalized. He rages back, “It is if it compromises your loyalty!”

Ignis resists the urge to roll his eyes. Instead, he sucks in a deep breath and tightly promises, “I am loyal to you, above all else.” There’s never been a second where that wasn’t true.

Noctis squints at him, as though expecting Ignis to burst out laughing and proclaim undying allegiance to Gladiolus instead. Which would be absurd. 

After a long, needlessly tense moment, Noctis grits out, “Prove it.”

Ignis lifts a brow. He wryly counters, “Shall I go break up with my partner now, or would you have me tie him up and cut out his heart as a sacrifice to the great Lucian King?”

Prompto lets out a groan before quickly clamping his hand over his mouth. He looks horrified to be present for the argument, much less to draw attention to himself. Noctis glances over as though noticing him for the first time, then whips back to Ignis and orders, “Kiss Prompto.”

Ignis frowns. “What?”

“Kiss. _Prompto_.” Noctis stares Ignis down. Ignis doesn’t know what to say in the face of that intensity. Serving his prince has never felt like such a blood sport.

Even if it were, Ignis would be the victor. He’d do more than make out with a stranger for Noctis; he’d _kill_ for Noctis, even if Noctis acts like an irritating child far too often. Fortunately, Ignis isn’t being asked to do either of those things. He gives his prince a curt nod and marches over to the other bed. 

Prompto squeaks as Ignis hikes himself up onto the mattress, and then he’s leaning forward, bringing both hands up to Prompto’s face—he cups Prompto’s cute cheeks and leans in to brush his lips over Prompto’s. 

Prompto makes a muffled noise of shock. Ignis gets another one when he kisses Prompto harder, then harder than that—he tilts sideways and runs his tongue between Prompto’s pert lips, and Prompto relinquishes a little moan before opening wide. Ignis slides right in, tasting Prompto’s teeth and tongue before diving in as far as he can go and licking it all out—he sucks on Prompto’s bottom lip and laps at Prompto’s walls and runs his fingers back into Prompto’s blond hair just like he does every time they’ve managed to sneak away and catch a moment alone together—Prompto tends to moan louder when his hair’s pulled. 

He moans _especially_ loud when Ignis sucks on his tongue and rocks against him. While the one hand fists at the back of Prompto’s neck, the other curves down Prompto’s spine, tracing his shoulder blades and running over his hip, dipping to squeeze his ass—Prompto bucks into Ignis’ sturdy frame and whimpers as Ignis plays with his taut cheeks. Ignis knows _just_ how Prompto likes to be touched, and he does it all for his prince, putting on the show off a lifetime. 

By the time he pulls back, Prompto’s flushed and panting. Ignis licks a wet stripe across Prompto’s lips and makes sure there’s a string of saliva still connecting them when he pulls back. Then he wipes it away with his thumb and pops it into Prompto’s mouth. Prompto closes around that digit and starts to suck, groaning lewdly, clearly going on instinct because Ignis often does this to him before giving him a wicked hand job—except then Prompto seems to remember their audience and pulls back with a yelp. Ignis gives him a reassuring smile before tossing Noctis a sterner look. 

He asks simply, “Is that enough to prove my obedience, or would you like to me suck his cock now?”

Somehow, Noctis is even redder than Prompto. He looks gob-smacked. He opens and closes his mouth several times before managing, “I—fuck, _shit_ , Iggy, I’m sorry—”

“It’s alright,” Ignis says, even though if he were actually dating Gladiolus—and not the incredibly irresistible Prompto Argentum—it would be very much _not_ okay. Seeing the overwhelming shame on Noctis’ face makes up for it. 

“No, that was totally out of line, I shouldn’t have made you—fuck, I’m _sorry_. Life’s just really sucked lately, and I just thought... I dunno... that was stupid, I shouldn’t have—of course I respect you, and you totally have a right to be with who you want, I didn’t... I mean I didn’t _actually_ wanna ruin your relationship, I’m sorry—”

It’s almost comical how quickly he’s flipped around, now that he thinks Ignis really would do _anything_ for him, even cheat on another man. Realistically, Ignis probably would. But he’d of course tell Prompto about it, and he’d scold Noctis not only for the abuse of power, but for breaking poor Prompto’s heart. 

Noctis swivels to Prompto and throws in, “I’m sorry, Prom, I didn’t mean to suck you in—I wasn’t thinking—I’ll tell Gladio it was my fault, I’m sorry—”

Ignis almost wants to say that no one should tell Gladiolus—they should just leave it where it is and all move on. Except he’s looking forward to seeing Gladiolus laugh in Noctis’ face for jumping to such ridiculous conclusions. 

Prompto shuffles awkwardly and mumbles, “S’okay, dude. Um, I’m sorry too...” Maybe for not telling Noctis. But Ignis already explained to Prompto that they’d need to plan out and tell Noctis _delicately_ , for the exact reasons Noctis has just demonstrated. 

Noctis glumly mutters, “Why are you sorry? I’m the one being selfish. Now I went and made it weird between you guys, just because I was feeling weird—”

“Noct.”

He abruptly shuts up, peering guiltily up at Ignis. 

“You’re right, that was selfish of you. As penance, I think we should switch up our sleeping arrangements tonight—I’ll take Prompto this time, and you sleep with Gladio whilst thinking about how you’ve mistreated your retainers. You can tell him what you did in the morning.”

Noctis looks absolutely broken but nods miserably. Usually, he sleeps with Prompto, because Prompto’s the smallest one and takes up the least room in the bed. Ignis has never pressed the point, because he knew that if he were to sleep with his boyfriend instead of Gladiolus’ giant, sweaty, snoring body, they’d be caught in an instant. But it’s about time he stopped caring about that. The journey would be much less stressful for at least two of them if they were able to cuddle in between long bouts of surviving daemons and Imperial troopers. 

Gladiolus chooses that moment to wander out of the washroom draped only in a towel, his chiseled body moist and glistening, hair plastered back around his tattooed neck and necklace draped between his massive pecs. For once, Ignis actually glances at the spectacle, if only to keep up the charade until morning. Noctis deserves at least one night of suffering. 

Gladiolus yawns on his way over to the bed that Ignis is sitting on. Ignis coolly tells him, “You’re sleeping with Noct tonight.”

Gladiolus blinks at him, then shrugs and yawns, “Whatever.” Then he’s over beside Noctis, squirming under the sheets in nothing but that towel. Noctis has never looked so distraught.

Ignis tries not to cackle as he settles down with Prompto in their bed. Prompto quietly mumbles, “We gotta tell him...”

Ignis agrees, “Tomorrow.”


End file.
